


Whiskey and Regret

by JayceCarter



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 03:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10585692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Hancock won't have sex with Nora when he's sober, and she wants to know why. However, honesty goes both ways, and soon Nora has to admit to her own failings as well.





	

 “Why can’t you fuck me when you’re sober?” Nora had her feet up on the table in the Statehouse, Hancock standing by the door, a tin of mentats open in his hand.

 

“What are you talking about, sister?” He popped a pill beneath his tongue then tossed the tin onto the desk. He shrugged out of his coat, folding it over a chair.

 

“Every time you want to you touch me, you’ve gotta take jet, or mentats, or whatever fucking combination you want. Or, you’ve bathed yourself in bourbon. So, come on, you have some sort of ghoul erectile dysfunction I should know about?”

 

He undid the buttons of his shirt, an ugly smile across his lips. “This ain’t a conversation you want to have.”

 

What was it about him? Hancock was everything this new world had become. Violent, foul, an addict, and so sure his way was the right way. That’s why she wanted him, because he was the embodiment of everything she had to become to survive. So their little friendship had turned into more, though she’d hardly call it love. It was lust, just as addictive as the fucking chems he swallowed or injected every chance he got.

 

“I asked, didn’t I? Must want to talk about it if I asked.”

 

He let out a hard laugh, one that called her a liar. He used his foot to knock her feet from the table, then spread her thighs and knelt in front of her. “You don’t want to talk. You don’t talk worth shit, and hell, neither do I.”

 

Nora put her hands over his to stop him. “Yeah, well, I want to talk tonight. You have any idea how much it sucks to have someone who needs to get fucking high in order to want ya?”

 

“Yeah, probably about as much as it sucks to fuck someone who pretends you’re someone else.”

 

“What are you on about? I’ve never pretended you’re anyone else.”

 

“We lying now, too? Because you ain’t that hard to read, sweetheart. Between the fact you won’t look at me when I touch you, and the way, when you’re really caught up in the moment, you moan Nate’s name, well, yeah, I ain’t stupid, just high.”

 

Nora went to stand, but he gripped her hips and forced her to stay sitting. “Let me go.”

 

“Why? Am I wrong?”

 

“Yeah, you are.”

 

Hancock reached forward and cupped Nora’s breast, his thumb brushing the nipple through the fabric of her shirt. His black eyes studied her, and before she could help it, her own eyes drifted closed.

 

He pulled his hand back. “Told ya. The second I touch you, those eyes of yours close, and ya shut me out. So, yeah, some chems or some liquor help numb that sting a bit. You really want to bitch at me about that?”

 

She opened her eyes, brows drawn together. “So why keep doing this? If it hurts so much, if you’re so damned unhappy with how it happens, why keep at it?”

 

“Because I’m pathetic, that’s why. Because I’d rather have a sliver of you than none at all. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking hurt when you moan his name, but it means I’ll take that over not touching you at all.”

 

Nora dropped her head into her hands. Yeah, he was right. She couldn’t face that he wasn’t Nate, that Nate was gone, that she had to move on. It hurt too much to admit any of that.

 

“Hey, now, Sunshine. None of that.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I told you that you didn’t want to have this conversation.”

 

“You smell like whiskey.”

 

He laughed. “And you smell like regret. It’s an imperfect world and we take people like we can get ‘em, huh?” He pulled her forward into a kiss, working on the button to her pants.

 

Nora kissed his back, eyes closed, hands working on his pants. Practice made their fingers nimble, and it only took a moment before both had pants off enough for what they wanted.

 

Hancock leaned her back, flat on the couch, crawling on top of her. “You may pretend I’m someone else, but I’d still want to be nowhere else. The worst part is that he’s fucking dead, I can’t even go kick his ass, can I?”

 

He pressed against her, and Nora took the plunge. She opened her eyes, then cupped her hands on his cheeks, staring into those black eyes of his, getting lost in the way they had no end, just reflected all the want and need inside of him.

 

She held the gaze as he pressed into her, sliding all the way in. His hand went to her hip. “Fuck, sunshine, you got pretty eyes, you know that? I like ‘em on me.”

 

Nora laughed, eyes tracing John’s face, his jawline, his throat. She used her fingers to feel each detail, to soak it in, all the things she’d denied herself. Yeah, he wasn’t Nate. He was thinner, covered in radiation burns, and he cursed like a criminal. Nate had been proper, a gentleman to the core. But, for all the ways this man was different, she craved him.

 

“Fucking sucks to love someone who loves someone else, but no one ever accused me of being smart.”

 

“Love?”

 

“Yeah, so you think you can keep his name from your lips this one time? Maybe as a gift for me laying my pride on a chopping block for ya?”

 

Nora stared down between their bodies, taking in the contrast between them, the way his skin pressed against hers. Love? She didn’t think she fucking understood love anymore. Love was for the old world, where people settled down and had babies and houses and shit. Not when they fought Deathclaws and raiders at every turn. This world didn’t give itself to love.

 

But maybe that’s the point. Maybe this was love in the new world. It was dirty, and broken, and hurt you more than a little, but the shit couldn’t be melted down.

 

His hips sped, and they’d done this enough Nora knew what it meant. He pressed in deep, cock twitching as he came, hands pinning her hips down like he always did, like he was fucking terrified she’d up and run away.

 

He kissed her throat, his ruined lips knowing exactly where to press, and Nora locked her fingers behind his neck. “Yes, John,” she moaned.

 

He pulled back, offering her a grin. “Now that name, I like. You think I can pull some more of those from you?”

 

So maybe it wasn’t the love she used to know, but maybe that didn’t really matter.


End file.
